The Darkness of the Soul
by The one who calls herself Sian
Summary: Using my OCs to make a lil fic. Enjoy. Not that you will but oh well.
1. Chapter 1

_Where am I? What's going on? Who even am I? Am I even the person I think I am? I don't even know any more. As I sit here motionless wherever the hell I am. Am I even alive? Am I dead? These thoughts spiral around my head a lot. Answering these questions would take a lifetime, so I don't bother even contemplating them most days. I just focus on my main goal. Getting the hell out of here. Wherever 'here' is, that is. 'Here' is probably my thought of hell. But then again, what are thoughts anymore? Too many echo around this place. The dead, the living, the inbetween. That's what I think I am. An inbetweener. Not in heaven, not in hell. Inbetween the two. A sort of purgatory, or something like that. I do have memories, which I dwell upon often, since that's the only thing I can do these days. I live off my memories, since they're only thing I have right now. I remember what life was like before this. Life was great before I ended up here. That day was one of my lowest though..._

I slammed my hand down on my alarm. Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed, pulling up the strap on my vest top. I stuffed my feet into my slippers, and wondered downstairs. I flicked the switch on the kettle and rummaged around in the cupboard for a mug. I filled the mug with two spoonfuls of coffee granules, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a splash of milk. Mixing it up, I stayed silent, and the only sound that was heard was the whistling of the kettle. Our cat, Milk, swirled around my feet for a little while, mewing, before I fed her some cat biscuits. Milk was called Milk because she was a pure white Persian cat. And I guess she liked Milk. I don't know. We've never given her milk to drink. Not pure milk anyway. Milk can mess up a cat's stomach.

The kettle stopped boiling, and the switch flicked itself up. I quickly filled the rest of the mug up with the hot water, stirring the coffee, sugar and milk mixture into the water. When I'd finished stirring, I sat on the table, where Milk jumped up beside me and sat in my lap, digging her claws into my small thighs. I was used to it now, accepting the pain, and stroking her back to calm her down. She purred as she curled up in my lap. I drank my coffee, staring out of the window. It was raining. Typical British weather. After about ten minutes, I heard my father wake up. My mother had already gone to work (she was on the early shift), and we were the only ones in the house. I quickly switched the kettle on again, after filling it with more water, and sprinted upstairs, going to get changed for school. Off came the shorts and vestie, and on went the knee-socks, the short skirt, and the sailor shirt. Damn British schools making girls into stereotypes. I sighed, brushing my hair, untangling it all. I switched on my straighteners, and straightened my hair. My father had gone downstairs by this point, thank god. I straightened my hair and bangs, brushing them to the side, and tweaking my two studs in each ear and the one in my top ear. I liked to be different, but I covered them all up with my straight hair, to cover them. My bangs covered half of my left eye, which was good, since I have Heterochromia. I have one green eye and one orange eye. It covers my left, which is a dark amber, and shows my right, a brilliant green. My brown hair covers most of my face anyway. I have a rich deep chocolatey brown hair, which was recently dyed a chocolate colour, yet my hair was so dark, my hair just absorbed the colour and made my hair a little creamier and lighter, only by a fraction, but it was noticeable. I grabbed my rucksack from the foot of my bed, and wiped the dirt off of it from the previous day, where a few year twelves had thrown it into a puddle of mud. I secured a new badge onto my bag where a big patch on my bag had been, and slung it into my back. I pulled on my pair of black school shoes, to match my red, white and black uniform, and headed out, closing the door behind me. No, I did not say goodbye to my father. I never did. He hates me. So why should I be nice to him? Walking along the street, I noticed how quiet it was. I was on time for once, maybe that's why. I saw my friend across the road from me. I waved at her, but she was too busy listening to music through her headphones. I ran across the road to her, joining her. I nudged her, and she looked up. "Morning Kanari!" she exclaimed, smiling. "Hey Paloma." I said, with a raspy voice. I was feeling like shit again, and I didn't feel all too friendly today. "You okay?" "I'm good, yeah." she said happily, bobbing her had to whatever crap she was listening to. I walked along beside her, looking at my feet, bumping into a passer-by. "Oh my-I'm so sorry!" I said, picking my bag back up that I had dropped. As I looked up, I blushed. Hercules? What was he doing out of school? "Not your fault ma'dear, I should have watched where I was going!" he said with a smile, in his sexy, texan accent. I just stood there stupidly, blushing. "See you at school, just going to grab breakfast!" and with that, he walked off. I gazed after him, before Paloma dragged me away towards school. "Sorry P..." I said nervously. "Yeah, I know, you like him. Don't lie girl." she giggled as she walked on in front of me. I just kept quiet, as we reached school. Paloma quickly stuffed her iPod and headphones into her bag, and I followed her up to our form room. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Thoughts spiral around like no-body's business. I can hear what you're thinking. "What an attention-seeking whore." Yeah. Go ahead. I've heard it all before. Don't even bother saying it to my face. That's if you could. It's all dark now. No turning back. Say it behind my back. Like I'd care. I never really did. Until it all turned black. No-one seemed to care. Well, that's until they knew. Everyone hated themselves for it. I should know. It's their fault._

_No. No it's not their fault. Of course it's not. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have done it in the first place. But karma's a bitch, and turned my path to the wrong. Even when I think about it, I still can't remember what was going through my head. My parents were devastated. Even dad. That's the scary part. He never seemed to care. With the abuse, the swearing, the drinking, it was clear he really just didn't give a shit. But even he was crying. Poor dad. I feel so bad... _

_Just leave me to cry in the darkness... The way I spend all my days if I'm not talking to myself..._

I followed Paloma into school quietly. She caught up with her friends that she hadn't seen, and I just went straight to form. Mr Italo was already in, so I just walked in shyly. He looked up slowly from his desk, and was a little shocked at my form. "K-Kanari..?" he peered up, looking over his glasses at me, astonished. He had been on a training course for several weeks, and hadn't seen my scene transformation. My hair, the studs, the bag, everything. "You look...nice..." he coughed between his words, blushing. I had always been a favourite. And since he was so young and I was the oldest in my class, and since god had blessed me with the biggest chest that an eighteen year-old could have, he always acted as if he liked me. He was only twenty-two, and he did still have uncontrollable...feelings...shall we say. So yeah I blushed too, nodded and sat down, being the shy girl I was. I was the only one in the room, so he tried to make conversation, and not be awkward. I just either nodded, or shook my head, or just didn't respond. I wasn't in the mood for talking today. Suddenly, someone entered the room. I slowly looked up, flicking my hair out of my face. Mr Italo was blushing. We could see each other out of the corner of our eyes. "Good morning sir, 'ma dear." The voice was familiar. Hercules? I blushed darker, nodding, faintly muttering good morning back to him. I looked back down, scribbling down some notes for homework. Why was I so shy? I needed to break out of my bubble. I sat quietly as Hercules sat beside me. I kept looking away shyly, as he kept looking my way. Suddenly, a few of the popular kids walked in. "Oi! Bitch! Move! Get out of my seat!" one of the girls shouted at me. I looked up, picking up my stuff and moving to the other side of the classroom. Hercules sat there, a sad, defeated look on his face. "You shouldn't talk to her like that!" he sternly snapped at her. "Excuse me?! Who asked you to talk?!" she shouted. "Hey! Guys! Calm down!" Mr Italo shouted at them. He looked to me, and beckoned me toward his desk. I walked over, and he said: "Don't listen to them. They're just jealous of you. You should stand up more." "How are they jealous, sir?" I was dumbfounded. I had nothing to be jealous of. "Well, your chest for a start..." he mumbled, turning red. I blushed myself, looking away. "Sorry Kana.. But it's true..." he muttered. I just backed away, going back to my notes as he coughed, trying to get rid of his blushing cheeks. I could see where he was coming from, that was the only thing the girls were jealous of. But I couldn't find the confidence to tell them to shut the fuck up. I needed to, before it was too late...


End file.
